


Revelations

by Kate_Reid



Series: Never Be Your Curse [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Gen, Kylo Ren Backstory, Rey (Star Wars) Backstory, glacial burn really, rey's childhood, the slowest of burns, when kylo met snoke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Reid/pseuds/Kate_Reid
Summary: Rey's and Kylo’s backstories, part of theNever Be Your Curseseries. How did they get to this point in their lives?But those things belonged to Ben Solo, not Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren didn’t have a family. Kylo Ren didn’t have a home with anyone else. Kylo Ren didn’t have anything but his body and his paint. He used both violently.





	1. All Your Tomorrows Shine

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lovely moodboard by Flawless_Sorcerer_Supreme, who's the actual best.
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more about Rey and her father that didn't quite fit into the previous installment.

Bail had adopted Rey when she was about ten. As a widowed single man, he’d had to jump through all kinds of hoops to prove that he didn’t want a young girl  for nefarious purposes. And he absolutely didn’t. After he’d met Rey, he’d spent a long time privately in awe of the polite orphan who understood complex equations and had asked such intelligent questions on the science museum field trip he’d sponsored for her group home in the hardscrabble Jakku neighborhood of London.  

He’d continued to visit her and ask after her schooling.  Though he was in aeronautics and she was more interested in structural and architectural engineering, they’d found common ground in their love of simply making things work.  Bail had admired her intellect and quiet fierceness--so much so that he’d begun making subtle inquiries about adoption.

It wasn’t easy--he’d had to jump through the aforementioned hoops and endure visits by social workers.  However, he couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry about the check-ins--he was glad that someone was looking out for Rey and kids like her.  The social workers never found fault. Bail would have spoiled the hell out of Rey, but she mostly insisted on taking only what she needed, nothing more.  He found out that she scoffed at expensive clothing and didn’t pay much attention to her appearance. He learned quickly, however, that she would accept any food-related extravagance and was only too happy to indulge her.  Rey also never said no to new books or educational trips to museums or historical sites.

She continued to have a particular interest in architecture, so Bail had made sure to take her to every notable building he could.  After some time, he’d found out that her main focus was on building homes. His heart had squeezed when he heard that the girl who had very little memory of a home before him wanted to build homes for other people.  He bought journal subscriptions for her after finding out that she’d developed a fascination for affordable, sustainable housing, especially for low-income people. However, she was still taken in by epic structures with timeless, sweeping lines.

So, when Bail and Rey stood under the magnificent dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral, the awe and wonder on her face was priceless.  He led her to the crypt, translating the Latin inscription over Sir Christopher Wren’s grave-- _ Lector, si monumentum requiris, circumspice _ _.   _

_ “Reader, If you seek his monument, look about you,” _ said Bail, looking fondly at his daughter, whose eyes sparkled.

“I want to build my monument, too,” Rey had replied.  

Bail had known that she would someday do just that.

 


	2. The Riot Inside Moves On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Kylo met Snoke.

He had so many things that belonged to him from before. He had two parents, he had a home, he had some prospects, he had a degree from the Rhode Island School of Design. He even had a healthy trust fund.

But those things belonged to Ben Solo, not Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren didn’t have a family. Kylo Ren didn’t have a home with anyone else. Kylo Ren didn’t have anything but his body and his paint. He used both violently.

He used his body to intimidate, his stance to frighten, his manner to scare--all so easily that it was almost boring. It was simple to break knuckles, easy to pound a face, not at all too difficult to loom disturbingly.

Many times, the people on the receiving end of his violence deserved it, possibly even more. They were terrible people who had just happened to run afoul of a worse person. And Snoke was always the worse person. But sometimes, Kylo could tell that the people he terrorized were simply desperate individuals who’d gotten in over their heads. Those jobs troubled him.

The jobs that Snoke gave him were never too complex. Kylo would have thought he was being exploited as dumb muscle if he didn’t know that Snoke knew better. No, this was just temporary. As awful as he was, Snoke knew that Kylo was an educated man--an artist, even. Yes, this was just a temporary job until he could move up. Kylo’s mentor wasn’t fool enough to let him serve as a simple heavy.

Snoke was simply waiting for the right moment to put his connections to work for Kylo. Snoke knew many influential people. Any day, Kylo would receive the call. A private gallery show, a commission, just an admirer of his work. Snoke had assured him that yes, his work was “difficult,” but would find its niche easily enough.

Snoke said that there was a market for Kylo’s raw expressiveness and that he was sure there would be interest in the abstract red and black shapes Kylo threw onto canvas with nearly the same fury he fought.

It was just a matter of finding his audience, Snoke told him. And one day, Kylo would. One day, he’d have opportunity beyond imagining, far above what his mother’s crowd could have done for him.

His mother’s crowd had already failed him. Sending him to his uncle to learn yoga? Teenage Kylo had been angry, yes, but more sad than anything. He’d been disappointed that his mother didn’t know her son well enough to understand that his uncle’s serenity crap and crunchy-ass granola and weird raw milk shit wouldn’t work. At the very least, he should be teaching Kylo martial arts. Kylo knew that his uncle had advanced training in at least two different disciplines.

When Kylo had raised questions with his parents, it made him even sadder. None of them--his mother, his father, his uncle--trusted him to learn a martial art because they feared his violent nature would only flourish if he was taught more efficient ways to commit violence. His family’s fear of him hurt more than anything.

It had finally all blown over when he’d been roused from his bed in the middle of the night, confronted by his uncle over some perceived disrespect. In that moment, disoriented and sleepy, Kylo had felt actual fear when he saw his uncle standing over him, hands raised in a fighting stance. He’d broken a chair over his uncle’s head and run away.

Not knowing where to go, Kylo went back home to his parents. His mother had finally seemed to hear him for once and called in a favor from a friend of a friend, and Kylo found himself learning Krav Maga from a grizzled former Major in the IDF.

Finally, finally, here was a physical outlet similar to the psychological outlet he received from his art.

Kylo had found Krav Maga satisfying and slowly rose up the ranks, continuing his studies throughout his time in college at RISD. His relations with his parents remained strained--he couldn’t shake his feelings of betrayal and hurt or his disappointment at their mistrust of him.

One day during his senior year of college, at one of his Krav Maga tournaments, he’d been approached by an odd old man in eccentric gold clothing.

The strange man explained that he’d seen Kylo at many tournaments and demos. He was intrigued by Kylo’s potential as a fighter. Kylo hadn’t really known what to think. His main interest was art. He’d imagined graduating from college, then creating art by day and making his money by teaching nighttime self-defense classes to women who wanted to feel safer walking down the streets of Coruscant City during the crime wave that had been going on as long as he could remember.

  
But the weird old man kept showing up. He was there at Kylo’s senior art show, complimenting Kylo’s work and hinting at connections to highly-placed collectors and gallery owners. He was there outside Kylo’s gym, alluding to opportunities he could provide. He seemed to know exactly who Kylo had been and exactly who his family was. These were things that Kylo had tried to keep as secret as he could, not wanting anyone to devalue his achievements or assume they were based on his family’s influence.

Snoke--that was the eccentric man’s name--knew everything about Kylo, knew how badly he wanted to make it on his own, knew how he felt let down by his own family.

Kylo should have been alarmed by this. But Snoke got him at just the right time. He might have rejected Snoke had it not been for the news that he found out on television and online with everyone else--Alderman Ransolm Casterfo called a press conference and told the world that Alderwoman Leia Organa was the daughter of the infamous Darth Vader.

Kylo didn’t know what to think. Just when his feelings toward his family had mellowed, he found out that he’d been lied to his entire life. He’d actually taken comfort in the old pictures of Grandpa Bail and Grandma Breha, loved listening to his mother’s stories of her parents, found happiness in her offhand statements that his grandparents would have adored him, hell, he’d even thought it was sort of neat that he was descended from what passed for royalty in Coruscant City.

It was after this revelation that he found himself less creeped out when Snoke told him that his parents had intentionally held him back, that they were afraid of Kylo becoming another version of his real grandfather. They had knowingly kept him from his heritage in order to keep him under control. Why should he trust them, when they’d never, ever trusted him?

After all, Snoke alone had seen the promise in him. Kylo was the scion of the empire that had once owned Coruscant City. Who was left to be the heir? Kylo’s mother and uncle had both been stupid enough to reject their inheritance. Vader’s legacy could go to none but Kylo.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, as always, to the fantastic Flawless_Sorcerer_Supreme and situation_normal.
> 
> [Come say hello!](https://calledalaska.tumblr.com)


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